


I’m Sorry

by pahahnope



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2020-08-13 23:08:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20182246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pahahnope/pseuds/pahahnope
Summary: A bunch of Peter and Tony short stories because I love them and am hiding from the reality.





	1. Blame

Peter splashed another handful of cold water on his face, looking up to the mirror he couldn’t recognise the tired boy staring back at him. He didn’t know whether that was from how tired he was and that he couldn’t focus or the way his face had changed, he had changed. He was so lost and confused.

He didn’t cry much anymore, he tried to, Hell he wanted to cry, he wanted to show some emotion and not feel like a pit of emptiness. But tears never left his eyes; it was like the universe telling him to move on, telling him that his period of mourning was finished. But Peter couldn’t move on.

For that image would enter his head every time he breathed.

The man who had been there for Peter when he would be like this could no longer support and comfort him. Some days Peter would stare at his door half expecting him to walk in babbling about something, but he was stupid, he was foolish. Because he was never coming back.

Peter saw him die. And he would never forget the image of his glazed eyes not even being able to focus on Peter.

Peter got so stuck in his thoughts that his body would move without him telling it to. Like his body was trying to keep him safe while Peter self destructed.

Now sat on his bathroom floor Peter held his head to his knees, silently screaming into them. The pain was too much, he could deal with physical pain, his body would sort that out. But emotional pain couldn’t be solved. It was inescapable. He needed it to leave.

He couldn’t help but think that this was all his fault, because that’s the way he always thought. But it was his fault, people told him that. The internet had posts and posts about how Tony Stark was mourning the loss of his child figure, so all rational thought left his mind. How that if Peter wasn’t close to Tony then Tony wouldn’t have fought; being too happy in his own family to risk it all.

The world resented Peter because he made them lose a hero, a role model, an inspiration. And Peter resented Peter because he made himself lose his last father figure, his stability, his happiness.

He had an underlying feeling of jealousy, he was jealous of the people who still had a full family, jealous of the people who didn’t lose, jealous of people who didn’t lose five years of their life. He still had May and he knew he should have been thankful for that stability, but she came back a different lady.

She was more worried now, more scared about what might happen. She didn’t need Peter adding to the stress that she put herself under, he could deal with this himself.

But hell did he just want to scream at someone and cry about how unfair his life was, like a five year old who can’t get a new toy. He wanted someone to understand, someone to tell him that life wouldn’t be like this forever; that maybe he deserved happiness for a year. 

But Peter didn’t deserve happiness. He made Tony Stark die. He made a child no longer have a father, a wife without a husband, a world without a hero. 

He was alone and he hated it. He didn’t know if his friends blipped like him, whether Ned would now be five years older than him, he would be 21 an adult. But Peter would still be in school, having missed a whole 5 years of life. 

He could text him but then he would just see another headline about Tony or another text from someone saying they’re sorry. He was scared to do anything, because he was the reason Tony died and everyone hated him for it. 

He hadn’t even been close with Tony for long. Probably if all the times combined that they were close it wouldn’t even make a year. But Peter felt like he knew Tony his entire life. He had been his idol growing up, his role model. It was like without him the world just seemed empty, like there wasn’t really anything to look forward to. 

He had this feeling before, with his parents and Uncle Ben, but even then he saw another side to this emotion. But without Tony it was just plain nothing, he knew why. But he just couldn’t admit it to himself.

The fact that everyone he loves will die an untimely death.

And that all seemed very funny to him, the fact that he was Spider-Man trying to save the world from all hurt but really he could never save the people he cared about most because they knew Peter Parker and that was a death wish in itself.

“Hey kid, you going to come downstairs and eat something.” Peter didn’t reply just slammed the door because the tone being used reminded him far too much of the tone that Tony would use when Peter had a ‘bad’ day. It was almost like Tony was still there watching him, wanting to drag him back up to happiness. But he wasn’t, he was gone. 

See, death is strange. Everyone deals with it in different ways, some people shut everyone out; whereas some soak in the love and affection of others. But everyone can’t believe the truth, no-one believes that the deceased will never have a conversation again, never make them laugh again. And people usually get over the hurt at different rates, never forgetting but more learning to cope with the pain.

But for Peter he had dealt with loss too many times to go back to his normal self. Because every time he looked at someone he loved he wondered; will you be next?


	14. Dear 2010s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn’t marvel related but I needed it said. I’m really nostalgic not in a good way. :(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have like 15 chapters vaguely written of Tony and Peter might get back to posting.

Dear 2010s,

How do I say goodbye when you’re the majority of everything I know. And I know I know 2020s will make me say the same, I promise I’m not that two faced haha. But I don’t know if I’m prepared to grow up, and leaving 2010s will be like saying adios to being a kid. 

I guess I’m not ready, but I have to be. I can’t control time can I, although sometimes I wish I could. 

It’s been a decade to remember. People will say you’re stupid and you ruined lives. But will they tell you how much change you made. How you changed the world we live in. How you somehow managed to destroy and perfect earth. 

You made us more aware. You told us people aren’t all the same and no-one should make these people feel any less ‘normal’. And okay it’s not perfect, there’s still mass homophobia, racism, sexism and more but I think the majority of the human race has learnt. Learnt that it’s okay to be different no matter what. You taught us to speak out. You told us we can scream from the rooftops because the treatment people received wasn’t fair, and we helped.

But you ruined the human race. Made us violent, hateful, merciless killers. Last year in the US alone nearly 40000 people were killed by guns. Thats the highest figure in 50 years. How dare you kill thousands. Crime rates have risen in every country to the point that it seems that living in such a terrifying world is normal. Where girls are scared to walk the street alone, people are scared to go out at night, you’ve made a violent carelessness of all of us.

But you’ve saved thousands. New technology is created everyday that helps people live. Technology that tries to save every life it encounters. But you created technology that ruined lives, created new forms of bullying, new reasons to be sad. 

I guess you were the decade of change? Or at least tried to be? Did you try? Because there’s people, stubborn old fashioned people, who still have the same rigid views. We still are trying to make the world a better place. We are trying okay. Okay maybe some aren’t. Some people finding it funny to make fun of peoples attempts, but every little counts right? 

Okay I’m getting side tracked. I’m not mad at you 2010s, how could I be? Best years of my life so far. Hardest years so far. I don’t think I want to become an adult. I want time to stop. Just want to live in the moment of such little responsibility for a second longer. Grasp onto the last few breaths of childhood. 

I think you’ll be remembered poorly by many, the pain you caused many. But you tried, I get it. I try too, doesn’t always work out. I will think it was the best time of my life, maybe because it was my adolescent years? I’m sure one day we will all be old folks and remember you as the ‘simpler’ times. 

Goodbye 2010s

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna post this on new year but have it now.


	24. These memories we have last long.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aunt May gets dementia, and Peter thinks it will go away and she will get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is inspired by you’re favourite mug aka me. And the struggle I’ve had accepting my nans dementia.

When May started forgetting what day it was Peter just assumed that she was being over worked and was so tired she barely slept hence being unable to remember the day. He knew it was a pretty normal thing and not to worry about it, so he didn’t.

When May kept going to bed at 4pm Peter thought she had worked the night shift and waited up for him to get home, to make sure he was safe because she cared like that. It was normal nurturing May behaviour. 

When May kept forgetting to eat Peter thought they were tight on money again so she gave her meals up for Peter, he always made her an extra slice of toast because she needed it just as much as he did.

All in all Peter didn’t think there was anything wrong with May until a random biology lesson on a Thursday morning.

“People with dementia struggle with date and time and remembering simple things like how to shower, when to eat, where they live. Unknown to most dementia can occur in younger patients. Complete the questions in your book on cases of dementia in people under 50.”

Peter shook it off, it was just a coincidence. May was working too many shifts to try and get some money in for Peter and his expensive life. He made a mental note to cut back on his food and recklessly leaving his backpack around. 

And that only worried people around him more. Three weeks went past and Peter had clearly shrunk in size, his normally thinner body was looking like a skeleton and his face alone was enough to provoke worry in anyone. 

Peter felt sick all the time. It didn’t make sense. He needed to keep the little food he had in him inside so why was his body demanding it to be in the toilet. He shook a lot, wore more and more layers everyday. And if he stood up too quickly he got dizzy. But he had to help May out, she was trying her hardest to feed him; it would be selfish to have more than half a slice of bread for breakfast. 

His mood should’ve lightened when he saw Tony in the car waiting for him. He should’ve been ecstatic but he didn’t have the energy to do anything more than a smile and a wave. He concentrated on the steps making sure not to trip over and possibly cost May a hefty hospital bill. 

He had to be careful. That’s why queens hadn’t seen spider-man in nearly three weeks. 

“Holy shit kid, you look rough. Do you want me to take you home? We don’t have to have lab day today?” Peter just shook his head as he rested it on the window maybe he could get a little sleep in on the way to the compound. He might feel better then. 

He expected to wake up in the same car, in the same position. Not lying flat on some sort of bed, he tried to open his eyes closing them straight after as they were too bright. 

“Fri, dim lights to 80%”

He opened his eyes, the white was blinding even if it was dark, the clean smell burned his nose. He looked at the needle stuck in his arm and no. No. He couldn’t be in hospital. He didn’t have the money. May didn’t have the money. If only he didn’t go to sleep. 

He ripped the needle off his arm and went to get up ignoring the dizziness of his brain. “Peter. Peter! Stop. Lie down it’s all alright.” He diverted his gaze to the man in front of him with a worried look on his face. He was looking at him like a complex equation unable to understand how it all fits together to make an outcome.

“No. No. You don’t. You don’t understand. I can’t be here.”

“You can. You’re at the compound. Why wouldn’t you be allowed here?”

“Costs too much. May has to work so much to pay for me. She is working too much she’s tired and forgetful, not enough money to go around so she skips meals for me.”

“Is this why you haven’t had a full meal in three weeks. Is this why you fainted when you woke up from an hour nap? Money problems? Peter I can pay for your food, you need to eat three full meals a day with snacks you can’t survive without it. And for the hospital it’s a free service comes with benefits of being Spider-Man.”

Peter calmed down after that. He knew he shouldn’t accept money off Tony but if it would help May put he knew he had to. May wasn’t even Peters blood relative she shouldn’t have had to look after him, but she did. He felt guilty every day for being a burden to her.

Peters phone started buzzing next to the table he saw that it was May and picked it up without hesitation. Even before she started talking he could hear the panic “Peter? Peter? Where are you? You were meant to be home now? What’s happened?”

“It’s alright May, it’s lab day, you know when I go to Mr Starks.”

“That’s not today, why didn’t you tell me? Peter I’m scared what’s going on?”

“It’s always on Friday.”

“But it’s not Friday!”

“May, it is. I wrote it on the calendar, I’ve crossed every day that’s been.”

“Where’s the calendar?”

“Um next to the fridge where it’s always been?”

“I’m so sorry Peter, you’re such a good boy to me, sorry for panicking.”

“It’s alright May. There’s some food in the fridge I made earlier for you, in the big plastic box. Yeah the fridge next to the calendar. Yes of course it’s your food, I made it. Put it in the microwave for five minutes then mix it then put it in for another five.” Peter started silently crying when May kept asking how to work stuff or where something was that had been there ten years. “The microwave is on the counter by the tap. Yep. Okay bye May I’ll see you later.”

Once he hung up he curled himself into a ball and held his head in his hands. May had been getting worse and he knew she needed help but he didn’t want anyone to take him away. 

He completely forgot that Tony was there until he heard a confused “Kid?” He dried his eyes and looked at the lost man. “What’s wrong with May?”

“Oh nothing, she’s just tired because she’s been working more to get some money in, she gets a bit forgetful when she’s tired. She’s fine though. I need to get home soon though, if that’s okay?”

“Peter you need to stay here overnight. You’re severely malnourished and dehydrated. I can’t take you home. May will be alright by herself won’t she?” All that did was panic Peter. He couldn’t leave May by herself, she might go wondering off again; Last time she made it a good hour walk before Peter could find her, god knows what would happen. 

“No. I need to go home. I uh have an essay due tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday Peter.”

“I don’t care! I need to go home! Now.” The worry in his voice must have meant something to Tony because he was up getting his keys and a bag of food for Peter to eat in no time. Peter relaxed a little bit, he could get home to May and make sure she was alright. And tell her that she didn’t have to work as much because Tony was giving them some money. 

The drive home felt longer than ever as Peter was told to keep awake, he kept eating the food from the bag that Tony had given him. The two were silent, Peter didn’t want to tell Tony anything and Tony didn’t want to push Peter. 

When they pulled up to the apartment block Tony said his usual “text me when you’re in” and waited until he got the text before he left. Peter slowly opened the door hearing smoke alarms immediately. “May? May! Shit. May?!” He looked around the room but the smoke was thick and he couldn’t see a thing. The whole block was getting evacuated but Peter still couldn’t find May. 

There was a knock at his door that came from a calmer voice than any other scream “Pete you need to get outside.”

“I can’t find May. I’m not leaving without her.” 

“This smoke isn’t good for your lungs.”

“It’s not any better for May’s. I can’t find her. I can’t. I can’t.” Peter stumbled into Tony’s arms sobbing. 

“It’s alright kid, we’ll find her. Go to your room and buy your suit on and it will be a lot easier.”

“I broke it.”

“What? How?”

“On purpose so I didn’t go out in it and get hurt.”

“You’re really something. Okay get a torch you check the rooms and I’ll check in here.” Peter stumbled over multiple pieces of furniture on his way. She wasn’t in his room, or her room. The bathroom door opened and May was sat in the bath with tears streaming from her eyes. 

“May? What happened.”

“Get out! Now!”

“No there’s a fire, you need to come outside, the smoke will mess with your lungs.”

“I’m waiting for Ben and Peter to come home. They were out in the park. It’s been ages.”

“No. May. Ben died. I’m Peter.”

“How did he die? When? You’re not Peter! Peters small. Short thin boy.”

“He died over two years ago.”

“I-.” Peter couldn’t take it anymore he fell to the floor resting his head on the wall, he couldn’t even feel himself crying anymore. He was tired and drained. He felt a hand on top of his head and heart a quaint “my boy.” Which in turn broke him even more. 

He didn’t hear Tony’s shouts. Didn’t see the firemen helping May out of the building. Didn’t feel his heavy body being lifted up. He just felt numb to everything. Nothing would ever be the same. 

“Peter. Come on kid. It’s gonna be alright. Look at me come on.” Peter slowly turned his head to see Tony but he couldn’t really see, his vision was clouded by tears. “I can’t. It’s not.”

“Don’t speak, not yet. Just come here.” Peter and Tony sat with their backs against the ambulance. Peters head rested on Tony’s shoulder and the mans arm was protectively around him. 

Twenty minutes passed and a man stood in front of them “Peter Parker? You’re aunt wants to see you. She’s a bit knocked up.” Peter knew she wasn’t, he knew that this was a knew May. “Want me to come with you?” Peter nodded as Tony walked by his side. 

Just the dazed expression on Mays face made Peter start crying again but he had to talk to her. He had to make her remember. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, where’s Peter.” 

“I-I’m Peter. Come on May you know me. Peter Parker the idiot, your nephew, the one who is more hyper than a puppy, you always say that. Please May.”

“He’ll be back in a minute and then I’ll prove you wrong. He’s gone somewhere. Where is he? Do you have a phone? I need to call him.”

“May! It’s me! I’m Peter! Please. Please. Look at me you know who I am. You’ve known me since I was born. You’ve looked after me over half of my life. You have to remember me.” 

“Go away! Find my my Peter.”

“But I’m Peter! I’m Peter Parker. I’m Peter.” He was in a state. He could barely get his words out he was crying so much. He felt arms tug him back but he kept fighting them. He couldn’t give up on May. She would remember. She was just a bit confused. 

“Peter calm down. Kid come on. I’ll take you back to the compound.”

“What about May? She needs help, I can help her.”

“She’s going to the hospital for a scan.”

“No. She can’t. What if they take her away? I can’t go into care. No-one would get me like May does. What if they ship me off to another state. What if no-one wants me.”

“Peter. It’s gonna be alright you aren’t going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was long. I might do a part two idk tho.


	26. Quarantine Queens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m bored as fuck.

If Peter was being honest when it was announced that queens was being quarantined he was far from disappointed. He was actually looking forward to the little break.

That was one day ago. And he was already going insane. 

He didn’t realise how much he relied on human interaction to get him through the day. He was at home by himself practically the whole time, May was a key worker and needed in the hospitals as much as possible. So he barely saw her. Hence barely seeing anyone. 

He spent most of the day eating and then feeling guilty about eating all the food and then got sad. Then realised fuck I’m just writing about me. I need to get out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to start a new book dedicated to ADHD Peter and just how I think he would cope with it and everyday life. Like the interactions with people who don’t get it.


	27. Empty happiness.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter in Tony’s biological son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by my life again because it’s a fucking mess.

Peter was just making some toast. It was a normal Saturday. The sun rose and shone through the windows. The Tv was doing it’s job of background noise. Everywhere was clean. Peters homework was all done. It was just a normal fucking Saturday. 

But when Peter went to pick his toast up to see a new presence in the kitchen. He knew. It wasn’t a normal Saturday anymore. “What’s up?” The man the other side of the counter just stared at the worktop, his hand gripping onto the surface like it was the only thing holding him up. 

“Rhodey’s dead.”

That was it. How the fuck was he meant to reply to something so soul destroying. The mans best friend had died. The best friend who was there for him through everything, even when everyone left him for dead. Rhodey was still there. 

“Oh. I Uh.” 

Peter grabbed his toast and left. Left his dad stood there broken. He just fucking left like he didn’t care that his uncle had just died. He didn’t even say ‘sorry’ or ‘Are you okay?’ He didn’t offer any affection. Peter just sat on his bed staring at his toast the words ‘Rhodey's dead’ and his dads depressed daze constantly in his head.

Peter didn’t leave his room that day. Because he was a bad son. He went to the bathroom straight after his dad so there was no chance that they’d cross paths. He didn’t eat. He didn’t even drink anything. He couldn’t. 

A small knock at the door made his heart jump off a cliff. “Hey Peter it’s me, can I come in.” Peter didn’t reply just grunted, he knew pepper would understand. She sat on his bed and stared at the floor. There was a lot of staring going on at the moment, weird. Wait what did pepper say.

“Did Tony tell you? Terrible isn’t it. You’re okay though? Good. If you need anything ask.” 

Peter was impeccable at acting okay. He probably seemed normal, maybe just a bit tired. But inside he was full of guilt. And for once there was a reason for it all. Pepper left as quickly as she entered his room. 

He woke up at 2am to the sound of coughing and crying. No sobbing. In the bathroom. He didn’t move. He was frozen. He heard pepper comforting his dad and fell back to sleep. Just to be awoken by nightmares of his dad telling him he was a useless excuse for a son, telling him that he’s selfish. 

Peter avoided Tony the next day but he tried to act okay. And he was good at it. If he saw Tony’s face that was constantly red and puffy he just smiled and carried on. He FaceTimed ned, played mario kart and just dance, made food; kept happy. 

In the end he felt guilty for that. Because his dads best friend died and the boy was acting like nothing had happened. But he didn’t care anymore. He felt so numb to it all. He felt like if he got stabbed it wouldn’t even hurt. He was numb to the pain. 

At least his dad could feel emotions. 

Peter soon forgot how to feel emotions. Forgot sadness, Happiness and any other emotion. It was weird really. He saw his dads test stained face and kept on going. He remembered all the times Rhodey had looked after him when Tony wasn’t able to, he didn’t feel a tear. He thought back to when Rhodey would tell him amazing stories about the wars, he recalled sitting up in him bed watching and listening to the man so so carefully, yet still he didn’t feel a thing. 

“Tony! Put the drink down. You know it’s not going to make it any better.” The reply pepper got was slurred. Peter just moved his position slightly so he could hear the tv more. Peter was broken. Like the remote that he hurled at the Tv without thinking. Like the Tv. Like the photo frames underneath the tv. Like the dented floor. 

Everything and everyone was broken. Clearly Rhodey held them all together and now he was gone, well there was no point in trying to fix things, nothing would ever be as good as Rhodey.


	29. Strange Struggled Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have a strange addiction to using triplet alliteration as a title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this bc I have all of this and had no idea that it was weird and told my mum that I used to do it, she was thoroughly confused.

Peter had always had trouble with sleeping. But he didn’t think he had a reason to be constantly having nightmares, so he didn’t bring it up. It became a normal, something that just happened every time he slept. He couldn't imagine sleeping and not waking up terrified.

No-one really knew, obviously May wondered about the routines that Peter had before bed but she thought nothing of it. And Ned well, he was a boy of habit, so any request Peter had like “can you leave the door open an inch” was done every time he stayed over.

It was only when Peter stayed at Mr Starks for a weekend, because May went away, did he realise it was a problem. He hadn’t even thought about having sleeping problems, until he saw the perfectly made bed, one more look around the room terrified the poor boy. The room was massive and probably very very dark. 

“What? Do you want to sleep in another room? Because there’s plenty to choose from.” 

“No, No this is fine, No it’s good, it’s amazing, thank you.” 

“Okay kid, meet you in the lab in 15?” Peter nodded and watched Mr Stark walk away very confused. As soon as the man was out of sight Peter was searching through the cupboards frantically for blankets or pillows. When he couldn’t find anything he sat on the floor and just stared. This wasn’t weird was it? Everyone did this. 

The evening went smoothly, they had pizza for dinner and stayed up watching a movie for too long. Peter was incredibly tired but that meant the before bed nerves kicked in. His stomach would flip, his heart rate increased rapidly and he’d nearly be reduced to tears. 

“Shit, it’s the morning. Okay kid time to go to bed. I do not want May on my case.”

“She let’s me stay up, she wouldn’t be mad, can we watch another one?” 

“No. Go to bed.” Tony smiled at the domestication of the whole situation they were going through, little did he know the terror going through Peters head. “I Uh need some water.” 

Peter practically ran to the kitchen, stared at the oven knobs, making sure that they were definitely off. “Are you lost Peter?” Mr Stark still spoke with humour, like everything was okay.

“No.” Peter grabbed his water and practically ran upstairs after briefly saying “night” to his mentor who would be embarrassed by his behaviour now. Thirty minutes later Peter was tossing and turning in bed. Thirty minutes after that he was asleep. 

Tony went to check on him because he decided that’s something he needed to do. Make sure the jittery kid from earlier was okay. The door slightly ajar silently opened letting more light in than before. Peter shot up in bed, clearly terrified. 

He threw his hands over his head and started sobbing. “Peter? What’s up kid. It’s just me Tony. You’re okay, it’s me.” As Peter was calming down, Tony sat on the edge of his bed and looked at the room. It was nothing like earlier. 

“Peter? What’s wrong?” 

Peter was just sobbing now, clearly still shocked. “N-nothing.” 

“Evidently something is up. Why have you done all this?” 

Tony traced the room with his eyes again. Then looked back at Peter, looking terrified that he was going to kick him out. “I’m not mad, just confused.” Tony hoped that peters clear tired delusion would help him be truthful. He was right.

“It helps me sleep.” Tony looked at him to carry on, as if saying ‘I have no idea how this helps but do go on’ 

“Well I’ve done it forever, I always used to be scared that the house was going to set on fire, or someone would come in and steal things, or try to take me or kill me. And this all helps.”

“Need more explanation on how a wrapped up sock and a duvet sheet over a wardrobe helps you sleep.”

“Well uh, I’m scared someone is hiding in the wardrobe so I check it before bed, then put a sheet over so if anyone tried to hide in there they couldn’t. The sock is also the reason I wrap myself up in a duvet and put pillows along side me: it’s comforting, like someone is there next to me, so if anyone came in they’d keep me safe. Uh the lamp over there so it’s not too bright for someone outside so no-one knows I’m in here but I can still see.

The Tv is on low but it usually is in another room, so someone might think there are people in and awake and not try to come in at night. And the light on outside so if I need to get up I am safe. The windows shut so no-one can get in.” 

Tony couldn’t speak. He never would have thought a sixteen year old kid could have this much of a struggle sleeping. He knew he needed to speak but he didn’t know what to say. 

“Do you think I’m crazy?”

“No I think you’re clever, it’s all very logical. But you shouldn’t have to do all this, you should feel safe here.”

“No I never feel safe, even at home. It’s not about this place.”

“How long?”

“Forever. As long as I can remember. Sometimes it gets worse after watching the news or if someone came in to talk to us about fire safety at school.”

“You know it’s not weird, we all have habits. I used to lock the bathroom doors when I was a kid because I was scared someone would come up from the toilet. So you were far more logical than me. But it’s not something you should keep doing. We can get you help. Or I can help. It’s not good for you. I saw you getting all worked up earlier. We can talk about it in the morning, you can get back to sleep.”

“Please can you leave the door open an inch and leave the hall light on?” 

“Sure kid, goodnight.”


	32. and what’s your dream Peter?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Peter monologue bc I can’t cope anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: suicidal thoughts, general depression.
> 
> THIS IS RAISING AWARENESS THAT PEOPLE WHO SEEM HAPPY COULD FEEL LIKE THIS, SUBTLY CHECK IN WITH YOUR FRIENDS ALL OF THEM.

Everyone tells you not to kill your self. They tell you that it doesn’t solve anything. That it simply passes on the pain. So you learn to live in pain, to make sure that no-one else has to deal with anything that you do. 

You learn that it’s actually quite easy to cover pain up with a smile. That it’s much easier to smile and act okay than be a quivering mess. That even though you don’t actually feel alive, you should, so you do. 

You begin to believe your smile, begin to believe that your life isn’t bad and there is no reason to be sad. You begin to believe what people have been saying for years. 

But one small event will make you realise, you’re not okay. You never will be. 

You feel like a problem, like a burden to people, like your own mind is plotting against you wondering what day you will give in. 

So I tried to give up. But the phone wrung. So then people found out, people tried to help, because surely the first thing you do to a kid who just tried to kill himself is send them to therapy, right?

No. 

Therapy means there is something wrong and not even the people you are closest to can think of how to help so they just pass the problem onto someone else. 

So you stop reaching out for help. You stop telling people how you feel, you act up in therapy to try and make it stop. Because nothing can help now, you’re done, this is your life. 

It’s weird feeling numb. Like you could break all the bones in your body and not feel a single thing. Like everyone around you could die and you’d just carry on like nothing changed. 

Then the worried phone calls start when you’ve been alone for more than an hour. Thinking you’re so unstable that you might kill yourself at any moment, but you can’t kill yourself you couldn’t leave everyone behind. 

You couldn’t even think to pass on the pain no matter how appealing it sounds for everything to just stop. Because no-one should have to feel like this, like there is no escape from their own mind.

Like your brain has hands and is making its way down your neck to your heart and strangling it slowly and painfully. 

It’s the feeling of not wanting to sleep at night because you can’t deal with the thought of living another day. It’s the constant staring at the walls with a empty mind, an empty smile.

It gets to the point where you can’t remember what happy felt like. Can’t remember what affection looks like. Because you’re distant. You start to feel like you don’t know anyone anymore, like everyone is moving on with their life but you’re just stuck in a pit of emptiness.

Because you can’t see a future for yourself, you don’t have dreams or aspirations anymore. You can’t see yourself a day past 20, you can’t see yourself with a job or a family. Because your dream is to not feel so fucking numb anymore. 

You’re dream is to be dead. But some people are too selfish to let that happen, scared of what their own pain would feel like. Because everyone thinks about themselves, because if you killed yourself they’d be sad, and they can’t have that. 

So you sit and wait. Hoping for an accident, that you could walk into. So they didn’t think you gave up, so they could tell all their friends about how strong you were. 

So I sit and wait hoping one day my dream will come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this a while ago on a really bad night and I keep coming back to it because it’s just ,disturbing? I’m such a happy person but 2-3 times a month I can’t cope and I write to ease the numbness, they’re always disturbing. I talked to my friend about it and she said ‘promise you won’t kill yourself’ and I had disassociated so much I said no. Oops.


	36. I hate him but I miss him more than anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nothing good every comes out of a forced friendship. ever.
> 
> also Harley seems like a bitch in this, deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the bad bitch I am with a strange set of emotions for the girl that was once like my sister and now a stranger.

Harley Keener was never someone Peter could imagine himself getting along with. He was just so up himself, thinking he was better than Peter, looking down on him like he was dirt. 

But Tony thought different. Why couldn’t these two kids who he loved with all of his heart be best friends. So he subtly forced it. Told them to go on walks together, set them projects to do in the workshop together. 

Not even a month later they were inseparable. Peter thought he had known Harley his whole life, couldn’t imagine a day without him. Every moment he was apart all he wanted to do was talk to Harley about an idea he had, it seemed like he was the only one who actually took interest in his crazy ideas. 

They’d spend hours in each other’s company no screens, no distractions just talking like their words were going to run out the next day. And the laughter. Oh god the laughter, Peter remembered how he was in so much pain after a single conversation because of an inside joke. Peter remembered being happy. 

He can’t remember when things began to go south. But he knew it was probably all his fault. Because after three years of friendship it was always Peters fault. 

He remembered crying in his room one day because Harley had walked straight past him when he was back from visiting some of neds family. He remembered feeling guilty for not texting him more on the trip. 

He remembered sending a text message that went over the word limit twice, apologising and saying how he hates that they haven’t talked in a week and that if there was anything he could do to make it better he would. 

Things got better for a month after that but after Harley got suspended from school he didn’t talk to Peter. Peter guessed it was jealousy, on his behalf, because the day he got suspended Harley got to spend the whole day with Tony in the workshop, but Peter hadn’t worked in there for weeks. 

So Peter started messing about in school to maybe get Tony’s attention, and it worked but in a bad way and Peter wasn’t allowed at the tower for two weeks as punishment for his actions. 

It was becoming the norm for Harley not to speak to Peter now. And Peter hated him for it, but again he sent another apology text. Because he couldn’t lose his best friend, he was scared to lose his best friend. 

He got a reply of ‘we’ve tried to make it work so many times and we can try again but I don’t know how long it will take.’ Peter threw his phone against the wall and broke it. Harley didn’t care about him. 

And it broke Peters heart. He didn’t open up to people easily, but he opened up to Harley so much, the boy knew everything about him. Peter felt useless without him, like they were meant to be best friends, one didn’t go without the other. 

But Harley has different ideas.

Peter stayed in the toxic friendship with Harley for another four months out of fear of being alone. 

But slowly Peter started distancing himself too. After being diagnosed with depression Peter was told to sort things out with past troubles. But he tried, he had tried to fucking hard there was no point anymore. 

Peter wondered if Harley thought about him as much as he did. If he cried every night he went to sleep because the world wasn’t the same without them together. Whether he felt his heart physically break every time they walked past each other like strangers.

Mr Stark seemed to take Harley’s side, he had probably lied about what Peter did. But Peter rarely saw his mentor anymore: once or twice a month to talk about Spider-Man, but that was it. And Peter hated Harley for that. He hated how worthless he now felt because of it.

It was a mistake to go through his photos because he saw a video Tony had sent on Peters birthday. There was a table of 20 people all chattering away, but the boy with the stupid hat on his head was turned to his best friend saying something probably rude and offensive, then the other put in another comment and their laughter filled the room. Sure there was 20 people in the room, but to them it was just them.

Peter was sure that he hated him. Knew that every time he walked past the boy he wanted to punch him and make him apologise. Wanted to tell him that he hoped he was happy that he left Peter with nothing but a broken relationship with his final father figure. But there was a part of him that if Harley would ever start talking to him again he would drop everything to make the conversation and friendship last.

Because in the end Peter couldn’t hate the person that gave him the best years of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally wrote her name in this so many times and had to replace it with Harley. It’s literally 90% accurate to real life so if by some fate of chance you are reading this. Fuck you, I hate you.


	37. I m. L o s t.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: this is very very dark. Do NOT read if you are vunerable. Includes major depressive thoughts, harsh guilt, self harm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is far longer than I wanted it to be. It took me so long.

Peter had no idea when it all started. He couldn’t remember when even on the brightest days there was still dark clouds over him. He couldn’t imagine life without the little shadows in his mind that shouted at him every passing second. There was no real catastrophic life event, just years of pent up emotion and loneliness.

He was never a kid who cried. He used to brag about the fact that he was so brave he didn’t cry in six months. He used to think emotions were for the weak so he pushed them to the side. Because after a life of struggle it was easier to be numb.

Maybe it all went bad when May died and he went to live with Mr Stark. But he’d wanted to die for a while before that. Maybe he was just born cursed, born with the will to die. Because that’s the only reason as to why this felt somewhat normal.

Not everyday felt numb. Some days, like the day Tony took him to the park, he actually felt something. Sure he felt sadness but it was better than nothing. All he wanted to do was feel something, anything but this numb feeling that grabbed his veins and didn’t let them go.

Thursday 17th April was when it all started to spiral out of control. Tony had gone out to dinner with someone, Peter didn’t pay much attention to anything anymore. Tony left the secretly suicidal kid alone in a tower.

But Peter didn’t want to die. He just wanted the constant pain of numbness to go away, it was like a virus that refused to leave, attacking every single one of his antibodies leaving him defenceless.

Peter didn’t even want to hurt himself but all it took was a trip down memory lane. The way he cared for everyone so so much and they either left or died. The way he would do anything to make someone feel better, but no-one checked up on him. The way everyone he truly loves dies.

That night Peter wakes up on the floor of his bathroom with blood all over his arms and in his nails. He was trying to get the virus out of him and it worked for a bit, but it just climbed back in.

Peter panics. What if Tony found out? He’s ship him off to an orphanage straight away and then no-one would pick him because what if they catch his virus.

So Peter cleans himself up. Puts wet toilet roll on the scratches and secures them in place with a sock with a hole cut at the toes. And when Tony comes back and checks up on him he makes sure to hide it under the pillow.

“Goodnight kid.”

Peter wasn’t completely sure as to why he felt guilty, it wasn’t effecting Tony at all. He was hurting himself not Tony. But for some reason Peter could imagine Tony’s reaction to seeing the bloody scratches on his arm. So he kept his struggle a secret.

From that night onwards everything got ten times worse. A plate of food would be put in front of Peter and he’d feel sick just looking at it. So he didn’t eat anything but dinner so Tony didn’t worry. He hated school. School used to be a happy place where he could learn but now it was just dark.

It was like the world was being taken over by this evil dark force and he was the only one aware of this. Everyone else was living in doubt. But Peter knew, he knew that his version of the world had changed.

He had to go into school everyday and hear about people complain about how bad their lives were. He’d lost count of the days where he had bitten his tongue. There were boys lashing out because they lost a bet or something dumb. There were girls punching things because they didn’t pass their test.

And then there was Peter. Sat down in silence listening to the war that raged on in his head. The dark shadows that constantly reminded him of how shitty he was. He sat there, the cuffs of his sweatshirt in his hands, trying not to break. It was like he was a bird with a broken wing, because all he wanted to do was fly and get better but he couldn’t. It wouldn’t fix.

“Hey kid! how was school?” Peter didn't mean to walk past him, didn’t mean to ignore him. But he couldn’t hear him, the voices in his brain shouting at him to ‘do it’ overpowered the worried tone of Tony shouting his name.

“Peter! Pete? Kid, talk to me.” Tony grabbed his arm and Peter flinched, it hurt. And Peter started panicking. He couldn’t stop shaking, the virus within him was grabbing at his attempted breaths and taking them for its own. So more struggled breaths came and the virus took each one of them. The virus then began attacking his lungs so he couldn’t even think to breathe.

“Peter breathe. C’mon kid.”

_I can’t. It hurts everything hurts, just make it stop. PLEASE MAKE IT STOP._

“Pete look at me.” He couldn’t stop the tears rolling down his face, couldn’t stop looking at his arm, couldn’t stop the feeling of guilt. _Look what you’ve done Peter, you’re stupid, pathetic._

“You’re gonna be okay kid I just need you to look at me, I promise I can help make this all go away. Peter just look at me. Kid, just look at me!”

_look way to go Peter you’ve made him angry now, he hates you way to go._

Peter wondered if he screamed into his knees right now whether Tony would hear him or not, maybe that would help to get this pain out of him. It refused to subside, it was stronger than Peter was, Peter was weak, he just gave up, it was easier to give up. Especially when the battle you faced was far stronger than you.

The shortness of breath was replaced with sobs. Heavy, tired tears fell down his face. Tony knew there was no getting through to him anymore so he just held Peter close and waited it out._Why won’t you just understand! I’m hurting so much, I’m so scared of my own brain, it tells me scary things everyday. I can’t cope with it for much longer. It’s so so loud._ But Peter didn’t say a word.

Once Peter was asleep Tony carried him to his bed. Peter felt the comfort of his bed around him, he could finally relax. But his brain didn’t relax, the virus didn’t tire. It shouted at him in his sleep, when he was waking up, when he did what they told him to do. He did what he was told so why didn’t they shut the fuck up. Why did they keep telling him to do more.

Why every night for two weeks was he cutting up another sock, wrapping more toilet paper around his arm. Why was the virus never happy with him. Why wasn’t it taking over his brain. Why wasn’t he getting better. He should be getting better._You won’t get better. This is life. This is everything you will be. Pain. Numb. That’s all._

Why did Peter feel so helpless, he felt like a dying bird now, it tried to cross a busy road in order to get his wing fixed but he got run over by a car. He was left to die. But if only his wing was not broken he couldn’t flown away. But it tied him down.

Why was there no escape.

That night Tony found Peter passed out on his bathroom nearly twenty cut up socks surrounding him. Blood all over his frail body. A tired expression on his face. Tony hit his head against the wall, because he should’ve known. There was so many signs that Tony just ignored. It was easier to ignore them. But that only got him here. His kid passed out on his bathroom floor surrounded by his own blood.

Tony picking him up and carried him to the kitchen “let’s get you cleaned up kid.” Peter was just a kid, this much emotion shouldn’t be in his veins, this much hopelessness. Tony cleaned all of the scars and cuts on his arms through glassy eyes. He lightly put a bandage on them. He nearly collapsed carrying Peter back to bed because it was all getting too much. But he had to be strong for his kid.

Peter shot up in bed immediately as he woke up, he felt a hand push him back down muttering “it’s alright Pete, it’s all gonna be alright.” Peter looked at his arm. Then remembered. Tony knew. He pulled his blanket over his head. He never wanted this, he never wanted to be broken. He hated it. He hated everything.

“It’s alright kid, you’ll be alright.”

But he wasn’t, the virus as still there. His brain still shouting at him. Maybe this was something he had to live with. He no longer had a choice whether to feel again. Maybe his brain was right, this was his life from now on. This was it. It never got better

A week passed. All Tony heard was silence. He stayed in Peters room with him constantly. The kid was to vulnerable it would be stupid to leave him alone. Peter hadn’t spoken to him all week. He just cried turned the other way. He pulled at his hair so much Tony thought it was all going to fall out. Tony always grabbed his hands and held them for him, maybe then he’d stop.

Tony went to get something from his office and came back to a wreck. Peters bandage was on the floor and the sheets surrounding the boy were starting to get blood stains. “Peter Stop! Stop it please. Please. Peter.” But the kid couldn’t hear him, they were both sobbing. Tony climbed on the bed and held Peters arms. The kid was screaming at him to “let me go” so he could finally stop hurting.

“Peter please kid. I love you so so much, you know how much I love you. You’re the best think to happen to me. Please stop.”

_But it hurts! Help me please. It gets worse everyday. It hurts so so much. I don’t know how to make it stop._

The kid started thrashing about. Screaming. He was frustrated. “I know it hurts kid. I know it seems like overcoming this is impossible but I promise it’s not. I promise to you we can make this better.”

Peter seemed to settle for a moment, Tony allowed himself to relax. Let go of Peter for a minute but as soon as he let go, the kid started again. Started scratching at the scars on his arms. He was going insane. The kid was losing it. “Fri? Can you call Rhodey please.”

“Colonel Rhodes will be here in ten minutes.”

“Tell him to hurry up.”

Tony couldn’t move. He just watched his kid be so hateful towards himself, he just watching everything fall apart he couldn’t deal with it anymore. “Tones? What’s Peter doing?”

“I... don’t know.” Tony and Rhodey just started at the kid, he was sobbing, screaming he was so so lost. So broken, the two men had never seen anything like it.

“It’s okay, you’re okay Tony. You just have to keep it together for me. I’m going to take Peter to the med bay and we can talk this out. Okay? You’ve gotta promise me you will be okay.”

“Yeah.” Tony just watched as his best friend carried his kid away. And when they were gone all he could do was stare at the red sheets in front of him, all he could see was his kid so ... so not Peter.

“I’m sorry May. I’m so so sorry. You trusted me with him and I broke him. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey Tony.” For a minute Tony thought he was going insane. Thinking May was talking to him but it was Rhodey, he wasn’t insane his kid was. “I think he’s gonna be okay, they’ve given him an IV and blood.”

“I didn’t realise.”

“I don’t think the kid wanted you to. He’s too thoughtful for his own good.”

“He’s a good kid Rhodey I promise.”

“I know he is.”

“He’s a good kid.”

“Yeah Tony, he’s a good kid.”

Tony fell asleep in a bed covered in his sons blood. He would rather die than relive that night.

Two weeks later Peter was sat in the car with Tony driving to his therapy. “I’m sorry.” Tony just nodded in response. “I mean it, I’m sorry.”

“I know kid, I just want you to talk to me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I... I think I can talk about it.”

“Yeah? Take me back to the start.” Tony gave Peter an encouraging smile, letting him know that he’d love him whatever.

“Well there isn’t a start. I can’t remember a time there wasn’t a little nagging in my brain. But some days I learnt to quiet it a bit. But it all just became too much. I felt so so alone. And I know I’m not alone, but there was no reasoning with my mind. It was like something was taking over. It wasn’t me wanting to do all of that. Something else was telling me to. And I felt so helpless, no matter what, it was always there screaming at me to kill myself. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to upset you.”

“What about your arm?”

“It helped me feel something. It reminded me that I was alive, that I was in control of my own body. I never wanted to do it, I’d black out and wake up with blood all over my arm. I hated doing it but I couldn’t stop. It was the only way to get this thing out of me, make it shut up. I’m really sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Peter just burst out crying. He felt so bad for scaring Tony, he felt to guilty for everything. The man didn’t even want Peter.

“Don’t be sorry Pete. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, nothing will change that. You just scared me back then. It’s not good that you went through all of that, no-one should feel that hopeless. But look you made it through, you’re so strong Pete, I’m so proud of you.

_See he’s proud of me. No matter how much you tried you couldn’t stop him. Because I won. I won. I won._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sitting here with a cut up sock on my arm.


End file.
